Where I have been.
A beautiful blank page. And a little meltdown from which I will recover.
After a large glass of pinot noir and an allergy tablet, which – yes – I know I am not supposed to combine, but I have developed an allergy to the blood-thinning medication I need to take twice a day for a year because I was born with my wires crossed, so to speak; I am in the bath. Wondering if the water is too hot. Wondering if the lavender oil is too concentrated. How much did I put in? Looking down at my naked body, I have three quick thoughts: 1. I am not as fat as I thought; 2. Yes, I am. 3. My veins are becoming more and more visible in the hot water, wondering then if the blood is thinning still and flowing faster – so fast it will cut right through my transparent skin and turn the bathwater blue. Oh, so blue.
My head is filled with the white noise of the ocean.
Everything will be all right. Eventually.